


Coalesce

by NeroIris



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Side Thomas/Teresa, just a lot of fluff, other characters show up too - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeroIris/pseuds/NeroIris
Summary: Coalesce (v): To come together to form one mass, or wholeNewt didn’t notice it at first. After all, it was very gradual. So when his favorite blanket seemed a little duller he figured it was because of the washing machine. And when he struggled to find his bright red hoodie he blamed it on the poor lighting. But one day, standing in front of the freezer clutching a blue ice pack, he couldn’t deny that the world seemed just a little bit grayer. That could only meet one thing.It was very rare, almost unheard of.His soulmate was dying.OR A collection of AU Soulmate stories revolving around our favorite gladers, Minho and Newt, featuring pining!Newt and a lot of sappiness.





	1. Iridescent

Iridescent (adj): Producing a display of rainbow-like colors

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Newt didn’t notice it at first. After all, it was very gradual. So when his favorite blanket seemed a little duller he figured it was because of the washing machine. And when he struggled to find his bright red hoodie he blamed it on the poor lighting. But one day, standing in front of the freezer clutching a blue ice pack, he couldn’t deny that the world seemed just a little bit grayer. That could only mean one thing.

It was very rare, almost unheard of.

His soulmate was dying.

Newt hadn’t met his soulmate yet, that he was sure of. When he was little he’d constantly pester his parents about love. They’d roll his eyes and ruffle his hair and recount the moment they met for the thousandth time. It sounded magical, like something out of a romance movie. Newt wanted that. And so he waited. Eighteen years he’s waited and he still hasn’t felt that spark.

He’s ok with waiting, though. What he’s not okay with was his soulmate dying. And before he could even meet her.

Unfortunately there was no good way to ensure he’d meet her. Even if he assumed she was in a hospital, he’d have to check every room and there was no way to know if she even lived in the same town.

So he decided to wait. Maybe one day his vision would return, as vibrant and colorful as ever. Maybe his soulmate would live.

And so he waited.

 

Four years he waited. And when he finally did meet his soulmate, he didn’t realize it at first.

The day had started out like any other.

“What color?” His best friend Thomas asked, holding up a sock.

Newt squinted at the degrading object. “Green?”

His friend nodded, allowing him a breath of relief. His vision had been nearly monochromatic for about a year now; so every morning Thomas would test Newt’s ability to see color. It’s not like it was getting any worse, no. He was just terrified one day he’d wake up unable to see any color at all. That his soulmate had died.  
“I’ve gotta run,” Newt said. “Do I look alright?”

“Smoking hot.”

Newt rolled his eyes; Thomas probably wouldn’t tell him even if he’d accidentally dressed in different shades of mustard. He grabbed his bag before heading out of their shared apartment. It was a hike over to the hospital but, as a fourth year nursing major, he was required to spend one day a week there observing. As cheesy as it is, he’d originally chosen nursing in hopes that he’d come across his soulmate. Over time, though, he’d fallen in love with helping people. Maybe he’d never get to meet his soulmate but he hoped he could help others find theirs.

“Which room?” Newt asked the receptionist, a kind girl named Teresa. She’d been working at the hospital for two year and he’d see her every Friday when he came in for observations.

She smiled at him and nodded to the doors to her right. “33A.” He nodded his thanks and made his way down the hallway. While he always enjoyed observation days, today was particularly exciting. He was going to watch an fMRI of a state 3 cancer patient. It wasn’t often that students were given the opportunity to observe any more than a routine check-up, let alone something as important as this.

The patient was already in the room when he arrived. He was tall and muscular and would probably scare Newt if it weren’t for his wide smile.

“Minho,” the guy introduced himself with an outstretched hand.

Newt, who was trying to pass the patient without drawing too much attention to himself, started. He took Minho’s hand and jolted when a spark of electricity passed between them. “Sorry! Uh, I’m Newt.”

He was turning to leave when Minho spoke up, “You look really young for a doctor.”

Newt chuckled uncomfortably. “Oh, I’m not- I’m not a doctor. I’m just a student.”

“You want to be a doctor?” Minho pressed, unfazed.

“A nurse, actually.”

To his surprise, Minho’s warm smile didn’t waver. “That’s awesome! I’m doing Chemistry, worst decision of my life.”

“Why do you say that?”

The Asian shrugged, “I actually kind of hate it but I’m in too far to change majors.”

“I don’t think it’s ever too late to switch to something you enjoy. Is there something you’d rather be doing instead?”

“I dunno. I was thinking I’d-”

At that moment the doctor entered, which was Newt’s cue to retreat to the control room. He watched Minho lie back on the table with a curious look. He’d never met anybody as easy to talk to as Minho, not even Thomas when he first met him. After a moment the doctor joined him and Newt shook his attention away from Minho to the screens.

He tried to focus on what the doctor was doing, he really did, but his eyes kept wandering to Minho’s face on the first monitor. He laughed to himself. It was obvious the Asian was trying not to ask questions about everything going on.

“See these red and orange stripes here?” The doctor asked, pointing at an image of Minho’s brain. No, Newt thought. They looked like two different shades of gray to him. Instead he said, “Yeah. What do they mean?”

Doctor Janson jumped into an explanation that Newt desperately tried to follow. It was times like this Newt worried that he wouldn’t be cut out for this job. Though he aced all of his written exams, he would never be able to keep up in the field, not when he couldn’t distinguish between red and pink.

After the doctor finished his explanation, Newt dared to ask the question he’d been thinking. “Uh, Doctor Janson.” The other man grunted in acknowledgement. “…Is it terminal?”

“Hm?”

“Minho’s cancer. Is it terminal?”

Janson leaned back in his chair, keeping an eye on the monitors. “Luckily, no. We thought it was for several years but now we’re fairly certain it’s not.”

“That’s good to hear,” Newt said, surprised at how relieved he felt.

A beep sounded from one of the monitors, signaling the end of the fMRI. Janson gave him instructions to help Minho out while he cleaned and stored the data.

“Have you done one of these before?” Newt asked as Minho climbed out of the machine.

Minho nodded, “Every year of my life since I was, like, ten.”

“You still looked like you struggled to stay quiet,” Newt joked.

“Hey! An hour is a long time to go without talking!”

“Maybe for some people.”

“Or for awesome people.”

Newt rolled his eyes, “If that’s what you want to think.”

“Hey!” Minho exclaimed indignantly, though his tone was joking.

“So, uh, when do come back here next?”

“The hospital?” Minho asked, to which Newt nodded. “Probably a couple of weeks. It’s hard to keep track of all of the appointments.”

Newt hummed in agreement. “So are you graduating this year too?”

“Next year.”

“So you’d have plenty of time to choose a new major!” At Minho’s sour look, he added, “Ok, well you’d have some time.”

The other boy chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

“So, uh, I’ll let you change out of that gorgeous hospital gown. But I’ll see you around maybe?”

Minho smiled radiantly, “Definitely.” Newt left the room grinning to himself.

 

The first thing Newt saw when he woke up the next morning was his bright green comforter. He blinked in confusion and squinted around the room. He didn’t just see green, he saw the entire rainbow. Each color was brighter and bolder than he’d remembered; the red of his hoodie like fire, the blue of the carpet like the sky. He took a few minutes to soak in the beauty of the world before it occurred to him.

“Oh, shit.”


	2. Serendipity

Serendipity (n): The chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Honestly, Thomas, you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Newt said, shooting his friend a frustrated look as he pushed open the doors of the coffee shop.  
  
“I’m not! I swear I saw it pause!”  
  
Newt looked down at his own wrist before looking at Thomas’ skeptically. Both ink clocks were running without a glitch, as they always had. Honestly, it was something Newt didn’t even pay much attention to anymore. It had read 00:00:00:00 at his time of birth and increased every second, much like, well, a clock. Someday, when he’ll meet his soulmate, his clock will freeze. But as of now, it read 19 years, 7 months, 5 days, 32 minutes. And counting.  
  
“Newt, look!”  
  
He peered at his friend’s wrist, which continued to count the seconds without pause. “Thomas, it’s fine.”  
  
“I think it’s broken.”  
  
“That’s not possible, it’s literally inked onto your skin.”  
  
“Maybe I briefly met my soulmate.”  
  
Newt sighed, “That’s not how it works. It’ll stop completely if you meet them.”  
  
“Can I take your order?” Asked the guy behind the register, a handsome Asian teenager, who didn’t look the least bit impatient despite Newt and Thomas’ petty quarrel.  
  
“Can I get an iced caramel macchiato?” The blonde asked, shyly avoiding eye contact with the barista.  
  
“Sure thing, what size?”  
  
“Grande’s fine, thanks.”  
  
“Ok. And are you two together?”  
  
“Yes,” said Thomas at the same time Newt exclaimed, “No!”  
  
The brunette shot him an odd look. “I thought you had a gift card?”  
  
Newt shook his head before turning back to the cute Asian. “We’re ordering together. But we’re not, like, together.”  
  
The other boy chuckled, “I gathered as much from your conversation.”  
  
Newt wanted to slap himself. “Right. Um, what do you want, Tommy?”  
  
“Can I get a regular mango carrot smoothie?”  
  
“I can’t believe I’m paying for you to get a vegetable smoothie.”  
  
Thomas shrugged, “It’s pretty good.”  
  
“That’s gonna be $6.32,” interjected the barista, whose name tag read Minho.  
  
Newt handed over his gift card, still avoiding eye contact and attempting to deflect Thomas’ questions about the coffee flavors offered.  
  
Once Minho returned his card and the receipt, Newt offered him an awkward smile and shuffled over to the other counter, Thomas in tow.

 

It took two minutes for Thomas to put the pieces together (“You like him, don’t you? Oh my god, Newt! Go talk to him!”)  
It took two days for Newt to realize his clock had stopped.

 

What he didn’t realize immediately was why. Thomas, being the first person he told, automatically jumped to the conclusion that it was the ‘dreamy coffee shop guy,’ but Newt was skeptical.  
  
“It could have been anyone,” the blonde said, lounging on his bed while Thomas rummaged through his closet on the other side of their shared dorm room. “I’ve passed hundreds of people in the past two days!”  
  
“But only one person that you’ve actually had a connection with!”  
  
“It wasn’t a connection! I barely talked to him!”  
  
“Regardless, you know from the time that it was when you were at the coffee shop!” Sure enough, the ink on his wrist was now frozen on 19:7:5:33.  
  
“That doesn’t mean it’s him! How do I even find out?”  
  
“There’s only one solution!” The brunette replied with a grin. “Go talk to him again!”  
  
“But that involves talking.”  
  
“And hopefully flirting.”  
  
Newt groaned. One thing was for sure: he wasn’t good at either.  
  


 

Minho wasn’t working the first time Newt stopped by. And to think the blonde had worked his nerves up to the point of nausea for nothing. He did get a very good coffee, though: a new seasonal peppermint special.  
The second time Newt came, Minho still wasn’t working. Before he could jump to an insane conclusion (like that Minho had quit in an effort to avoid Newt), he’d asked a worker about Minho’s whereabouts. To his dismay, the attractive barista was not currently working and hadn’t for the past several days.  
  
Ironically, the third time he stopped by he wasn’t looking for Minho; he was just looking for a nice cup of tea before his maths course. And, because fate never enjoys simplicity, of course it was then that Minho and his stupidly gorgeous smile were working.  
  
“What can I get you?” Asked the Asian, not yet looking up from the register.  
  
Newt rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Was it too late to make a run for it? Just as he was contemplating his escape, Minho looked up and noticed him.  
  
“Oh, hi again! I was wondering when you’d come back!”  
  
“I was beginning to wonder the same,” Newt mumbled to himself. At Minho’s curious look, he shrugged. “You weren’t here the last few I came in either.”  
  
Minho chuckled, “Are you saying you came looking for me?”  
  
“No no no! Of course not!” He rushed to defend himself, though his bright blush gave him away.  
  
“I wouldn’t blame you. I mean, who could resist me?”  
  
Someone behind Newt coughed impatiently. He spun around to find a frustrated handful of people in the line behind him (when did they all get there?)  
  
“Um, can I just get a chamomile tea?”  
  
Minho grinned, “You brits and your tea. What size?”  
  
“Grande would be perfect.”  
  
“Sure thing, it’ll be $2.75. And are you in any rush?”  
  
Newt handed over three dollar bills. “Why, is brewing hot water difficult for you?”  
  
“Clever,” Minho joked with a smirk, returning Newt’s quarter. “But I’m actually off in 15 if you’d like wait for me?”  
  
The blonde agreed without a second thought. He wasn’t about to pass up his potential soulmate to learn about derivatives!  
  
Once he grabbed his tea, he sunk into a cozy couch in the far corner. Minho joined him before he could finish his second Buzzfeed quiz (too bad he’ll never find out which dog shares his personality, though).  
  
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”  
  
“You mean ten minutes or the last nineteen years?” Newt asked before his brain could stop his mouth. In a moment fit for a TV comedy, his eyes grew wide and he slapped his hand over his mouth. “Shit.”  
  
“Are you saying that your clock stopped running too?”  
  
“I- what?”  
  
“Mine froze last week, and I had a sinking suspicion why. Now I know.”  
  
Newt looked down at his own wrist in surprise. Apparently his brain lost the ability to think in more than a word at a time, because he stuttered out, “Me?”  
  
“No, I meant that bald guy over there,” Minho retorted, nodding at a customer behind him.  
  
Newt shook his head, “Wow, you guys would be really cute together.”  
  
“Please, I’d look adorable with anyone.”  
  
“You’re probably not wrong.”  
  
“But I think I’d look even better with a stunning blonde.”  
  
Newt groaned, “Is that the best pick-up line you’ve got?“  
  
Minho scoffed, “Of course not! I’ve got an arsenal of awful pick-up lines! Wait, hold on. Can I get your picture?”  
  
The blonde eyed him suspiciously… “Why?”  
  
“So I can show Santa what I want for Christmas.”  
  
…  
  
“That’s so bad it doesn’t even deserve a facepalm.”  
  
Minho grinned, “But did it work?”  
  
“Somehow, surprisingly it did.”  
  
“I knew it!” Minho exclaimed with a victory fist-pump, to which Newt rolled his eyes. “Oh my god!”  
  
“What?” The blonde asked, nearly spilling his tea.  
  
“I…don’t actually know your name yet. Oh my god, I cannot believe I had an entire conversation with my soulmate and didn’t even get his name.”  
“It’s Chauncey,” Newt deadpanned.  
  
Minho’s jaw dropped comically. “Oh. Um, that’s-that’s a nice name.”  
“Relax. It’s actually Newt. Newt Wright.”  
  
“Oh,” the other boy said with a nervous laugh. “Newt. I like that. Um, I’m Minho.”  
  
Newt shrugged, “I know.”  
  
“But- how?”  
  
“You’re wearing a name tag. You are literally wearing your name on your shirt as we speak.”  
  
Minho glanced down at his chest in surprise. “Right, um. So Newt, would you want to go on a date with me. An actual date, like outside of this coffee place?“  
  
Newt pretended to consider it. “Maybe. I guess I am stuck with you for the rest of my life, I might as well.”  
  
“Wow, so enthusiastic.”  
  
Newt rolled his eyes fondly. “Of course I’ll go on a date with you. It better be great, though. After all, I did wait 19 years, 7 months, 5 days and 33 minutes.”


	3. Ameliorate

Ameliorate (v): To make or become better, more bearable, or more satisfactory

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“How are you feeling?” Thomas asked as he fixed Newt’s tie for the tenth time that hour.  
  
“Bloody terrified,” The blonde responded. “I think I might throw up.”  
  
“How romantic, Minho would love that,” His friend teased. “But I understand the feeling, being stuck with Minho your entire life.”  
  
Newt chuckled, “I’ve pretty resigned myself to that regardless. I mean, you don’t get to choose your soulmate.”  
  
“As if you’d choose anyone else,” Thomas replied with a snort. “But, like, what if it doesn’t happen?”  
  
“If what doesn’t?” Newt replied absently, returning to the mirror to straighten his tie once again.  
  
“You know, if you don’t lose your color vision. Like, what if you kiss and then realize you can still see everything and he’s not the one?”  
  
Newt, surprisingly, managed to remain calm at the terrifying thought. It was no secret that once soulmates married they lost their colour vision and would only regain it should their soulmate die. There was always the chance that you’d marry someone who isn’t your soulmate, it’s not as if you’d know until after you do. It was something Newt had considered himself, but there was no doubt in his mind that Minho was it for him. While they easily could have remained happily unmarried, it was often viewed as a cowardly way of escaping the possibility that you weren’t destined to be with your partner. They figured they’d deal with that possibility if it became reality, but wouldn’t worry themselves too much before then. Besides, it wasn’t unheard of for a non-soulmate couple to remain married, though they were choosing to live with the possibility that one of their soulmates would show up and uproot their marriage.  
  
Speaking of…he’d run out of time to fix his tie: the ceremony was about to begin. Thomas wished him one more good luck before hurrying out of the room to take his place at the altar as Newt’s best man. He took one last shaky breath before following Thomas outside.  
  
Almost immediately after he took his position, the string quartet began playing. They’d planned a quiet, traditional wedding, despite their perhaps untraditional marriage.  
  
Because of this, only the ring bearer and flower girl made their way down the aisle before the groom. Both were Minho’s younger cousins, and they looked positively adorable in their matching outfits.  
  
And then Minho came through the doors, his father on his arm, looking positively breathtaking. He was dressed in a gorgeous dark red tuxedo jacket and a black bowtie, a look fitting for Minho and his bold personality.  
  
“Wow,” he breathed out as Minho reached the altar. If Newt were to look in the mirror at that moment, he’d be sure to see a pair of enchanted smiles, if Minho’s was anything to go by.  
  
The priest began his opening speech, which Newt paid half-attention to. The other half he used to survey the room. In the front row sat Minho’s parents, both of whom were very loving and supportive of their son and of his marriage. Newt’s parents had, unsurprisingly, failed to show up, despite the several wedding invitations they’d received. To them, it didn’t matter that Newt hadn’t chosen to have a male soulmate (although even if he could choose, he’d choose Minho in a heartbeat). Nevertheless, he’d already (mostly) accepted their, well, unacceptance. His grandmother, who’d taken a parental role as of recently, had shown up, along with his sister, Sonya. Near them, too, were a number of their close friends, including Brenda, Teresa, and Jorge.  
  
On his side stood Thomas, his best friend and college roommate, Alby, and Gally. By Minho stood Ben, Jeff, and Chuck (on Thomas’ request). Everyone, for perhaps the first time since Newt had known them, looked put-together and polished.  
  
The priest’s words brought him out of his musings. He gestured to Newt, “If you would, please repeat after me.”  
  
And so Newt did. Each line he repeated after the priest, careful to get each word correct, even though he’d heard this passage time and time again. “I, Newt, take thee, Minho, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”  
  
Minho’s eyes met him and they both smiled, sharing a private moment.  
The priest coughed, leading them to realize their attention was required elsewhere. He led Minho through the same vows and announced, “I now pronounce you husbands. You may now kiss.”  
  
It was the moment of truth. Newt leaned in like he had a thousand times before and met Minho in the middle, eyes closed. The kiss was soft and sweet, not meant to lead to anything else, just to convey their love. While short, it was a promise of much more to come, tonight and for the rest of their lives.  
  
When Newt pulled back and opened his eyes for the first time as a married man, he saw the world entirely colorless. And he couldn’t be happier.  
  


 

60 years later

 

“Can I get you anything else, honey? Coffee? Tea?”  
  
Newt shook his head but smiled fondly at the kind nurse. She made to leave and he fiddled with the last slice of toast on his plate. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he was planning on going up to visit Minho today and figured he’d need his strength.  
  
They both resided in the same nursing home, though Minho was practically bedridden, which unfortunately meant that he was housed in the farther unit. Newt tried his best to visit him every other day, since it was quite a hike over there, but that was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day. And, unfortunately, half of the time that he did visit, his husband had no recollection of who he was. Today, hopefully, would be a good day.  
  
With his optimism in tow, he finished the last of his small meal and slowly stood, grabbing his walker for support. One of the nurses stopped him as he was leaving to see if he needed help, which he politely declined. Though he was sure all of the very kind young workers would gladly help him shuffle over to the other wing, he still found this to be a very private and personal journey.  
  
He was about halfway, near the main entrance to the facility, when he slipped and fell suddenly. Though it wasn’t entirely uncommon that he’d fall, this time it was accompanied with a brief scorching headache. It subsided quickly, though he hoped someone would pass by soon to help him up.  
  
Before he could begin to move, however, the pain hit again suddenly. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a shaky hand to his temple. Make it stop make it stop he mentally repeated over and over. He tried to think if he had brought any of his pain medication but, of course, all of it was sitting on his bedside dresser. He made a mental note to bring a couple extras with him next time he left the room.  
  
And then, as quick as the pain had come, it subsided. He breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes.  
  
The first thing he saw was the bright yellow of the walls and the inviting red welcome banner. And then it hit him.


	4. Denouement

Denouement (n) - The resolution of a mystery.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wait!” Says a female voice, her young face blurry but distinguishable, as she chases after a boy about her age. “Come back!”  
  
The little boy races through the woods, his laughter trailing behind him like his sister. She sprints after him, calling out for him to wait. Her voice, however, is tinged with a smile too.  
  
“You can’t catch me!” He teases. “You’ll never catch me!”  
  
She huffs, “That’s what you think.” And, with a great burst of speed, she tracks him down. In a minute, they’re both on the ground, tumbling  
down  
  
          down  
  
                    down  
“Sora!” He calls out as he falls with her. “Not fair!”  
  
She desolves into giggles, him following soon after. “You,” he wheezed between laughs “cheater. I hate you.”  
  
“I love you too.”

 

 

Newt woke up sweating, as if he’d been running with the pair. He sat up slowly and rubbed his temples. It had felt so real. It had felt, strangely enough, like he knew these people. This was the third dream like this he’d had in the past month, each dream growing longer and more vivid.  
  
He made his way to the bathroom, taking his time so he can put off leaving for class even longer.  
  
Sora. He repeated the name in his head. Sora. Sora. Could it be? He’d heard stories of people recalling memories from their soulmates, but he’d never put much stalk into them. Fables, tall tales, whatever you call them. But this dream had felt more like a memory than anything, and that’s what concerned him.  
  
He finished getting ready for class in a rush. As much as he tried, he couldn’t shake the weird feeling that it was more than just a dream. He tried distracting himself, brushing his teeth in a hurry and pulling on mostly matching clothes. “You’re being ridiculous,” he told himself. If this were Thomas, Newt wouldn’t hesitate to tell him how much of an idiot he’s being. But Thomas is always an idiot.  
  
Speaking of the devil, he heard a knock on his flat door and rushed to get it, still trying to pull on one of his shoes.  
  
“What’s up with you?” Thomas asked as the door swung open. He followed Newt into his flat as if it were his own, dropping his bag on a couch before settling down himself.  
  
“Hm?” Newt asked, still struggling to get on his shoe. He grunted as he forced it on his foot rather painfully. He didn’t have time to deal with uncooperative shoes when he had to deal with his uncooperative best friend.  
  
“You seem a little out of it this morning.”  
  
“It’s eight in the morning, I’m always out of it. You know I’m not a morning person.”  
  
“Whatever you say man. Are you ready?“ Thomas asked with a shrug as Newt finally defeated his shoe and moved to shrug on his coat.  
  
“Yeah,” Newt muttered non-commitally. “I suppose so.”  
  
“Have you finished the quiz for Myers yet?” Thomas asked as they make their way back out of Newt’s flat. Newt took his time locking the door, trying to stall as he struggled to remember which quiz that is. They began making their way toward campus, though the long walk was a little daunting.  
  
“Uh-” Is all he was able to get out, still not entirely certain about which assignment this was.  
  
Thomas groaned, “Newt, man, what the hell? You’re always on top of your shit, what’s been up with you this week?”  
  
“I- what? Nothing. I’m just…stressed.”  
  
Thomas snorted, “You and every other college student. I’m not buying it. Try again.”  
  
“Before you met Teresa, did you ever, um, dream about her.”  
  
The brunette paused before answering. “What do you mean? Like some type of perverted thing because I definitely didn’t - I mean I definitely don’t”  
  
“No,” Newt cut him off sharply. He doesn’t ever plan on learning about that part of his best friend’s life. “I just mean, like, did she ever appear in any of your dreams? Her face or her name or anything like that?”  
  
Thomas scratched his head as he thought, which probably took a lot of effort, Newt told himself in amusement. Finally his friend responded, “No, I don’t think so. Why?”  
  
The blonde shrugged, “Just curious.”  
  
“Don’t pull that on me,” Thomas said, smacking Newt in the gut.  
  
“That hurt.”  
  
“No it didn’t. Tell me why.”  
  
“You’re demanding,” Newt huffed.  
  
“And you’re annoying, call it even. Just tell me why. You know I won’t shut up until you do. I can keep asking and asking and-”  
  
“Okay, stop!” Newt cut him off. “I think I had a dream about my soulmate.” He ruffled his hair, pointing out to himself that that’s the same action he mocked in Thomas just minutes ago. “It sounds ridiculous but hear me out. I’ve been having these dreams about this girl, Sora, or something. Just a few of them. But it feels like a memory. Like last night, she couldn’t have been more than ten. But it doesn’t make sense. Why would I dream about somebody random? She has to mean something, right?”  
  
“It does seem,” Thomas paused, as if choosing his words carefully, “uncanny. And it’s always her?”  
  
“Yeah, her and her brother. I don’t know, it’s weird. I never see their faces. Do you think I’m going crazy?”  
  
Thomas stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Newt with a serious expression. He put a sympathetic hand on Newt’s shoulder and said, “I’ve always thought you were a little crazy, babe.”  
  
Newt shrugged his hand off with a snort before continuing to walk away with large strides. “And there’s the Thomas I know,” he called back at his friend, who was struggling to catch up.  
  
“Seriously, man, I’ll keep an eye out for her.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“But not, like, obsessively because I don’t want to steal your girl or anything.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Plus I don’t want Teresa thinking I’m obsessed with somebody else, other than you of course.”  
  
“Tommy?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  


 

“Do you have the notes from Tuesday?” A voice interrupted Newt as he doodled in his notebook before class starts. He looked up, it was just Ben. Good guy, but he was never in class and always turned to Newt to catch him up. Great.  
  
“Uh, yeah, I’ll email you them in a bit.”  
  
“Thanks so much,” Ben said with an exaggerated exhale, clearly fake.  
  
Newt hummed distractedly and turned back to his doodle.  
  
“Wow,” exclaimed Ben after a minute, peering over Newt’s shoulder. “Who is she?”  
  
The blonde jumped, trying to keep the annoyance off his face. He wasn’t just about to admit ‘Oh yeah, I’m drawing a girl I’ve seen in my dreams because I think she might be my soulmate.’ He settled for, “Shuck off, Ben.”  
  
His classmate whistled suggestively but otherwise dropped the subject. Put off, Newt put away his notebook in favor of staring at his class notes for the remaining 5 minutes.  
  


 

“Can you help me with the quiz?” Newt asked Thomas as they met up for lunch. He wasn’t one to admit defeat easily, but with this already being one of his busiest weeks of the semester, he figured his ego could take a blow for the sake of his grades. Besides, he’d bailed his friend out countless times, Tommy could do with a win for once.  
  
Thomas pretended to think on it, “You know, eating just takes so much concentration, I don’t know if I’ll have the time.”  
  
“Figures that something as simple as eating would pose a challenge for you.”  
  
“Hey now, do you want my help?”  
  
Newt rolled his eyes, “yes, whatever would I do without you?”  
  
“I’ll go hunt down a table for us.”  
  
“You’re not getting anything?”  
  
Thomas shook his head, “Nah, I’m meeting Teresa after my next class, so I’ll probably eat then.”  
  
“And to think I had your heart.” Newt replied teasingly before heading to grab a sandwich. He’d die before he’d admit it, but he sometimes found himself jealous of what Thomas and Teresa had. Thomas had said, when the two first met, that he just knew. That he felt this spark, silly as it sounded, that something fundamentally about him had changed. Newt hadn’t felt that with anyone, but he had to believe that what Thomas said was true and that he would find that with someone eventually.  
  
Once he paid, he made his way over to the corner table where his friend was sitting, papers already out.  
  
“Is this her?” Thomas asked as Newt shrugged his backpack off. “The girl you’ve been dreaming about?”  
  
The blonde huffed, “Well that just makes me sound like a sap. I’m not you. Besides, you shouldn’t be going through my stuff.”  
  
“I was getting your quiz out!”  
  
“Of a notebook labeled personal?”  
  
“Is it her?” Thomas repeated.  
  
“Yeah,” Newt responded, hanging his head in defeat. “It’s just a drawing, man. I was bored, I’m not taking this too seriously.”  
  
“You should be. Because I think I know her.”

 

 

This is ridiculous, Newt thought as he found himself standing outside of the bookstore. It was only a few blocks from campus, an easy walk, but he’d been putting this off for weeks. He only gave in because of the nagging curiosity (and his much more annoying nagging friend).  
  
A woman brushed past him into the store, murmuring an apology, but helping to push Newt in the direction of the doors. Here goes nothing.  
  
The bells attached to the door chimed as he opened it, making him wince. As if he wasn’t here to make his presence known to his potential soulmate. Shush, bells, that’s his job. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the store, usually coming in close to closing to snag a book he wanted to read in the comfort of a mostly-dead shop.  
  
Today he’d come right after his last class, but followed the familiar path to the back of the shop where the ‘nerdy’ books were, according to his friends. He glanced into the aisles as he passed them, hoping to see a familiar streak of black hair. Of course she’d look older than in his dreams, but if it really was her, he’d know. He had to. He got all the way to the back with no sign of her, but his anxiety at walking through a bookstore and leaving emptyhanded won over and he picked out a book to buy.  
  
“Hi, is this all for you?” The girl at the register asked. Newt looked up from fumbling with his wallet. It was her. And if there was any doubt about it, the nametag on her shirt confirmed it.  
  
“Uh yeah,” Newt sputtered. Nothing was happening. This was just a conversation between two strangers. Though she was gorgeous, he felt nothing. No, scratch that, he felt disappointed. Still, he blurted out, “Do I know you? You look familiar.” Because maybe the spark Thomas talked about wasn’t real, but this girl here definitely was and Newt wasn’t about to chance giving up easily.  
  
She frowned at him, not unfriendly, but questioning. “I don’t think so. Maybe you know my brother?”  
  
“Who’s your brother?”  
  
“Minho. He works at the Subway on 17th.” The name didn’t ring a bell. Nevertheless, a discouraged Newt thanked her and paid for his book.  
  


 

There’s a knock on his door that evening and, because Thomas is his only friend that shows up uninvited, Newt shouted for him to come in.  
  
“Wow, what animal chewed you up and spit you back out?” His friend asked, looking Newt over as he flung himself on the couch. “You look miserable.”  
  
“I’ve seen a mirror, thank you very much.” At Thomas’ raised eyebrow, he continued, “It’s not her. At least, I don’t think it is. I went to the bookstore and I talked to her, not about any of this of course. I’m not going to bloody say ‘I think I’m dreaming about you’ but- ”  
  
“But she’s not it.”  
  
Newt groaned. “Really fucking weird that I dreamed about her. Unless-”  
  
“Unless what?”  
  
“Want to make a late-night Subway run?”  
  
“Uh, sure?” Thomas replied, confusion etched onto his face. “Can you finish your thought, scatterbrain?”  
  
Newt shook his head as he grabbed his coat and his lump of a best friend and hauled them to the door.  
  
“Okay, I’m genuinely afraid now,” Thomas said as he trailed behind Newt. “You know the closest one is about half a block in the other direction. Have you completely lost it?”  
  
“Maybe. Come on, I don’t have all bloody night.”  
  
“Well maybe if you told me what got into that shuck-brain of yours I’d be a little more cooperative.”  
  
“It’s just a hunch. He might not even be there.”  
  
“WHO?”  
  
“Come on!”  
  
This door chimed too, but Newt didn’t feel the same nerves as he had earlier that day. He just needed to know if this was something. He turned to Thomas when they got in and, in a whisper, said “Go order something.”  
  
“You’re the one who wanted to come here!”  
  
“I’m not hungry, just go get something, I’ll pay.”  
  
His friend groaned but approached the counter nonetheless, muttering something that sounded like fucking ridiculous shank, doesn’t tell me anything. Newt ignored him. Rather, he scanned the restaurant. It was pretty sparse, given that it was approaching 9 PM. The guy taking his grumpy friend’s order was a young looking, freckled white kid. Nothing like Sora or her brother. All the while, he kept thinking Tommy’s gonna kill me if I was wrong about this.  
  
“Newt! I need your wallet.” The brunette called. Well at least he’s getting a sandwich out of this mistake.  
  
And then – “Chuck, when you’re done can you help me reorganize this shelf? All of the older products need to be brought to the front.” Accompanying the instructions came a striking Asian man, not unlike the Minho he’d seen in his dream, taller but with the same blinding smile. Minho sauntered out of their kitchen, an apron around his neck, and clapped a hand on the boy – Chuck’s shoulder. Chuck handed Thomas his change and turned to head back to the kitchen.  
  
“You guys have a great-” Minho started, looking first at Thomas before his eyes came to rest on Newt. “A great, uh, evening.”  
  
“Are you ready?” Thomas turned to ask Newt, but his friend paid him no attention.  
  
“Hi,” he breathed out, eyes locked with Minho’s.  
  
“Um, hi. I’m uh, hi. I mean, I’m Minho,” He stammered, hand outstretched.  
  
“Is this what I think it is?” Thomas butted in, only to be ignored again.  
  
“Minho, hi.” Newt responded, liking the sound of the other’s name on his tongue. “I’m Newt.” And he took Minho’s hand. It was an innocent action, a handshake between an employee and a customer, but it changed everything. And Newt felt it, like Thomas said he would. He felt anxiety rush through him, like a wave, bringing along with it an unexplainable warmth. Like drinking hot chocolate after rushing home on a cold day. But different, because it wasn’t relief, it was like he needed this to live, to breathe. It was everything, and it made him never want to let go.  
  
“This is going to sound crazy-” Minho began, refusing to drop Newt’s hand. “But I think you might be-”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Sooo, this was great,” chimed Thomas. “Thanks for the sandwich. I’m just going to, uh, go. Newt, I’ll, uh, catch you tomorrow for lunch?” The bell marked his absence moments later.  
  
“Chuck?” Minho called, never breaking eye contact with Newt. “Can you start without me? I’ll be there in a minute.” To Newt, “Care to sit for a second?”  
  
The blonde reluctantly dropped Minho’s hand, if only for the time it took for him to walk around the counter. “Sure.”  
  
Minho led them to the back of the restaurant for privacy, even though the only other customer was a tired looking blonde girl with a textbook open on her table. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been here for a few years, how have I never seen you?”  
  
Newt blushed, “I actually came here for you.”  
  
“You knew I was here?”  
  
“I actually, uh, met your sister first. I know, it’s ridiculous. It was just a hunch that I got from a, uh, dream. And I interpreted it wrong.”  
  
”Wow, we hadn’t even met yet and you’re dreaming about me? Did I have all of my dazzling charm?”  
  
“Well, you were seven.”  
  
Minho shrugged, unfazed. “I was an adorable seven year-old.”  
  
“Too bad you grew into this,” Newt mocked, gesturing at Minho. “I’m a little disappointed, I’ve got to say.”  
  
“Oh slim it, I’m everything you wanted. After all, I’m your soulmate.”  
  
Newt smiled fondly, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you're enjoying my Soulmate Series so far! Let me know either here or on my tumblr (becarefuldontdienewt) if you have any prompts for this series or any other story you'd like me to write! Likes/Comments (including constructive feedback) are always appreciated! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Additionally: In this chapter I pictured pan!Newt searching for any clue as to who his soulmate is. Which is why he looked for Sora first because she was the main person in his dream. If that makes sense?


End file.
